In your eye a shutter-spark that catches my gaze like a passing street lamp driving in the rain - it’s refraction drifting in and out until it’s a flash-bulb burned in my eye. A flash-bulb, lightning, sewing the skies and growing beauty in depths and molding itself to veins. Veins that burn into the friction of my sporactic chest - a catalyst.
A catalyst that ignites my gaze and inflames my ribs, it beckons your breath - warm against my ear. A breathing, a comfort, like the softness of the light in winter; where the clouds draw like curtains and you hold onto me.
A moment of hesitation in breath, And I continue to falter. You scare words from my ribs And I fear you. You to make me a convict of my indecision.